Second Impressions
by Spunk.Ransom.Is.Love
Summary: I never thought I would be running away from the one thing I wanted most, but when it comes to life or death, I guess your priorities change"...This is the story of the secretary who worked for the Volturi in New Moon. This is Gianna's story.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own anything from Twilight. –lesigh-

**Summary:** Gianna lives under the roof of her very successful parents. After she gets accepted into a college in the city of Volterra, Gianna and her best friend, Elena, pack and leave. Once there Gianna and Elena start noticing strange things, weird disappearances, a horde of red eyes, and of course, the high population of beautiful people. What happens when Gianna and Elena get in a little too much over their heads? What happens when they discover a secret that should have stayed buried?

**A/N: ** I thought people would enjoy a breath of fresh air away from the Edward and Bella story. Oh who am I kidding? I love reading about Edward and Bella…everyone loves reading about Edward and Bella. But I was reading NEW MOON for the thousandth time and I saw a great story opportunity and went with it. This is a story about Gianna, the secretary that worked for the Volturi from NEW MOON.  Weeee. Here we go. I'm so excited. Please remember to **review**!!

**Prologue:**

MY BARE FEET POUNDED HARD AGAINST THE STONE STREET OF THE LONG AND DARK ALLEYWAY, disrupting the silence with the steady sound of _slap_,_ slap_, _slap_. I was running, running as fast as my long legs would carry me, pushing myself farther when my quadriceps screamed in pain and resentment. I broke free of the shady street and sprinted for the bright and overcrowded town square.

I continued to pump my legs towards my unknown destination, not chancing a backwards glance as I wove skillfully through the mob of staring, curious humans, popping out of nowhere right and left. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't care. Just as long I was as far away from this…city as possible.

I ducked below an obvious male tourist's extended arm as he offered his screaming child a half melted ice cream cone. The camera around his neck swung wildly as he rolled to the side, successfully avoiding contact with me and dropping his ice cream in the process.

Human.

The word itself rolled of my tongue bizarrely, like I was puking it up instead of verbalizing it. It seemed a funny to say since I was a human myself, but how I longed to be so much more, a longing that would never be assuaged. I never thought I would be running away from the one thing I wanted most, but when it comes to life or death, I guess your priorities change. I'd rather accept my existence as a meager human than be stuck rotting in a narrow box six feet under.

**A/N:** So how did you like it? Review and I will love you forever.


	2. Chapter 1: ACTING!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything it all belongs to the amazing authoress...Stephenie Meyer.

**A/N:** First Chappie!! Woot. Please don't forget to review.

**Chapter 1: The Beginning**

My best friend used to say that everyone had a story to tell, whether it be worth listening to or not, and that all these stories sadly commence with a tragic experience; a life altering event that would lead to the shaping of the rest of that person's life and eventually, if they let it, end up defining who they are.

Regardless to my friend's strong creed for this rule, I was an exception. My story started well, almost sickeningly well, like being stuck as a part of the Stepford community.

I was well endowed, there's no doubt about that. I came from parents who were both extremely wealthy in their own ways. My father was descended from a rather long line of brilliant Italian surgeons, and my mother made her career in politics. They were both the epitome of success, an ideal role model for any person to aspire to become. My parents intentionally put an infinite amount of pressure on me to be the best that I could be. They urged me to make something of myself, to not just be one of those lifeless women that sit at home popping out baby after baby as they look longingly out their kitchen windows, wondering silently to themselves if life could be so much more than what they had. I strived to be just that, something my parents could be proud of. It felt strange and a little intimidating, knowing that one slip up, or a causal dance across the fine line that had been drawn for me, would cause a full out war between my parents and I. Fearing complications with my parents, I stayed in line, keeping my nose out of places it didn't belong, making good grades, and being the ideal daughter.

I spent all of my childhood living at a villa in the outlying countryside of an ancient Tuscan village with a population of 312 people, ages ranging from enfant to 102 years old. Our family owned the villa and had lived in it for six generations. The house was a picture of perfection, making even the glorious Cinderella jealous. The old, three story house had the presence of a French chateau. A lovely green ivy had crept over the aged, tan-ish, orange stone walls, which were turning a dull yellow in some places from sun exposure. Each window pane had been decorated with painted white shutters that matched the front door perfectly. The two brick chimneys that sat delicately on the scarlet, clay, shingled roof had spots of bright emerald mildew and pollen. A small garden sat directly to the left of the house, growing all sorts of vegetables and herbs. The yard served as a home to numerous scattered pots of geraniums and roses that my mother had planted during the warm spring time. With the passing of time and with my mother's decision to not deflower the pots, each plant grew out of their strict confines and cascaded down the sides of the burgundy clay, raking across the yard in random patterns. A circle gravel driveway completed the faultless house, and a huge fountain expanded across the grassy middle of the drive, spouting lukewarm water from the outstretched, lifeless, stone finger tips of the Aphrodite statue that stood in the center.

If the house wasn't enough, the scenery compensated for it. The picturesque background bared the resemblance of a postcard, urging the waiting receiver to visit soon or saying the untimely "Wish You Were Here". The sweeping hills in the distance caressed the liquid golden sun as it rose and set, casting its rays every which way, making me grin every time I gazed at this spectacular site. The endless number of red and purple wildflower fields swayed gently in the subtle, northerly wind, like a calm ocean wave. The supple gusts of air carried the flowers magnificent perfume all across the countryside. I spent most of my childhood exploring these fields with my best friend as we tried to learn their secrets and stories they had to tell about their past. It was in these fields that my best friend and I made promises to stick by each other no matter what life threw at us.

From my house to the nearby village it only took a ten minute bus ride along bumpy, dirt roads, with buses running once every hour. The village itself was small, but held its personality well, making it have an extremely natural amiable nature, calling tourists and future inhabitants from all over the world to visit and stay. The medieval structures that filled the village were all of gothic design. Church bells clanged loudly every day at the exact same time, calling the congregation to worship. An old, crumbling clock tower stood with lost dignity in the middle of the village square, and all that remained was its rotting skeleton, only a shadow of what it used to be. Merchant tents littered the already narrow cobblestone streets, only allowing the mass of walkers and scooters through the chaos. Each colorful tent sold something different and contained shouting people, trying to make their day's pay. Buyers were shouting back negotiations to lower the strict prices that had long been set in stone.

Growing up in a microscopic, Tuscan town had its pros and cons like all hometowns do. Because of its size, everyone knew and liked each other to their faces, but behind backs and closed doors, gossip spread like wildfire. Living in a small town had its perks such as having a lot of friends, but only one of them I actually considered being more than just a friend. She was family; she was my sister. I shared everything with her, my secrets and desires, my thoughts and plans, and her name was Elena Ricci. We were inseparable growing up, staying together through thick and thin. She stayed by my side when no one else would; especially when I told her my secret passion of not wanting to follow in the path that my parents would want me to. I didn't want to be a surgeon or an engineer or a United Nations ambassador. I didn't want to help suffering refugees or negotiate peace agreements. I was selfish and ashamed of wanting what I wanted. I wanted to act. I wanted the thrill of being on stage in front of a live audience or in front of a movie crew. I wanted to be stared at, to be the center of attention, to delve into mystical worlds that could only be brought to life by the limitless possibilities movies could offer. Elena was supportive and more than willing to help me with my quest to find happiness. She took me to see all the new releases when they came out, and we critiqued the actors and actresses in the back row with hushed voices. When the time came to tell my parents, they were not as supportive or understanding.

"YOU WANT TO WHAT?!" Both my parents screamed at me as the last word escaped past my red lips. I never knew the four words 'I want to act' could be so offensive. I bit my lip, hiding the obvious frown that formed. My father stumbled shakily to a nearby red suede armchair and collapsed into it. I sighed, _Aren't we in a melodramatic mood today, father?_

"I want to act," I repeated with as much conviction I could put into my emotionally wavering voice.

My father brought his hands up to his handsome face, hiding it from view. My mother crossed the room in two steps and reached out to him, stroking his naturally thick, messy black hair and sitting down in his lap at the same time. My father glanced up, giving my mother a weak smile before he started to rub loving circles on the small of her back.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, preparing to argue my "odious" mental state. I cleared my suddenly raw throat as butterflies fluttered haphazardly in my gut. I opened my mouth to speak, but my mother beat me to the punch.

"Gianna Botticelli, you will do no such thing," My mother answered before giving me a chance to make my case, shaking her dark brown, curly locks in disbelief, her green eyes filled with sadness.

"But mom-"I started to plead pathetically, but was interrupted by the dangerous flashing brown eyes of my father.

"Gianna, you heard your mother. Now go get ready for bed." My dad muttered, rubbing his temple, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.

"Just because I don't want to do anything you want me to do, doesn't make it less great. It just makes it different," I cried out.

They both avoided my eyes, looking anywhere but my face. When they didn't say anything, I stood there, gaping at them, stunned. My emerald orbs were livid as I tried to comprehend what my parents were telling me. I almost started sobbing when I realized what they were trying to make me do. I couldn't accept the thought that my own parents were practically shoving my only dream that I had ever had down the toilet, and were mad at me because they had to do it. Because they had to get their hands dirty. I shook my head, ridding the impossible thoughts from my mind as I looked to my parents again, still in an utter loss of words state.

My mother looked up. Tears streamed down her attractive face. I winced inwardly. This wasn't how this moment was supposed to be. We were supposed to be celebrating, not mourning.

"Gianna, you heard your father. Go get ready for bed."

I hung my head, ashamed at myself for making my parents disappointed in me.

With tears in my eyes, I turned on my heel and fled gracefully up the grand stairs to the comfort of my own room; the only place on the planet where I could be myself without the wandering eyes of naturally judging people. I ran across the hall to my bathroom and brushed my teeth as the tears fell silently down my tan cheeks. I swiped a cold rag across my red, blotchy face and sulked back to my bedroom to change into my pajamas. I fell onto my bed as I closed my eyes, pressing my head far into the welcoming warmth of my blankets. I tried to rid the images of my parent's disappointed faces from my mind, but they continued to dance across my eyelids relentlessly, mocking me, telling me how I'd failed them. I could clearly hear their heated argument through the floorboards as I curled up in a ball, fighting the urge to weep openly. Wrapping my arms around my shins, my body racked with silent sobs, and I wished that my parents would be more accepting of me. Suddenly curious, I focused my hearing on the voices that wafted up from below.

"I don't know what's gotten into our Gianna, Marcello, but I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I mean…acting?! What is she thinking?" My mother hissed, her voice raising a couple of octaves.

"Keep your voice down, Carlotta. She can probably hear you and no doubt she's listening!" My father reproached as he sighed loudly. The sound of soft staccato footsteps echoed through the floor. I could picture my father pacing, eyes unfocused, mind deep in thought.

A sharp awkward silence followed, only the sounds of the nighttime crickets sprang through the still air.

"What are we going to do?" My father asked finally, sounding defeated as the scraping of a chair on stone resounded in the air.

"I don't think there's anything we can do. It's not like we can stop her."

"That's what you think. We have some rope out in the shed, we could always tie her up," My father muttered half heartedly, earning himself a bitter giggle from my mother.

"We can't keep her locked up forever, you know. One day soon we just have to realize that she isn't our little girl anymore. She's grown up and we have to hope that we have taught her what she needs to make her own decisions," My mother explained.

"And that brings us back to square one…what do we do?" My father asked again clearly still considering the idea of using the rope.

I pictured my mother shaking her head. "Well we haven't exactly been the most accepting. I think the best thing we can do is to just help her with whatever she wants to do. It's not like we can change her mind. You know how stubborn she is."

I let her statement sink in and grinned into my pillow. My mother, forever the diplomat.

"Stubborn as her mother." I could practically hear the smile behind my father's words.

&

The next morning was a definite improvement, at least there was no yelling or telling me what a failure and disappointment I was to the Botticelli family. I woke up the next morning and skipped down the stairs, eager to eat the luscious smelling breakfast that my mother had whipped up. I ambled lazily into the kitchen and averted my eyes purposefully to the floor and took a seat at the farthest end of our rectangular dining table. My father sat on the opposite side of the table his nose in the morning newspaper and his darting in every direction, reading. I coughed loudly and hid behind my shield of hair as my father looked up.

My mother spoke first. "Gianna, I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but your father and I owe you an apology."

My father nodded his head in agreement. "We do. We are sorry for making you feel like you failed us, because that alone is the farthest thing from the truth. We are proud of you and we are sorry for making you feel anything less than that."

I bit my lip as tears leaked from the pit of my eye. I cracked a smile and leaped from my chair into my parent's waiting arms.

After my parents finally accepted my decision to become an actress, they handed me an application and told me I would only go to the best Italian acting school that Italy had to offer. I hugged my mother and father tightly, telling them I wouldn't let them down as I dialed the phone to Elena's house. I chuckled as she picked up the phone on the first ring.

"So," She started her usual melodic voice stiff with anticipation. "How did it go?"

I smiled into the mouth piece, knowing she couldn't see me. "Well, they just gave me an application for Italy's most prestigious acting school."

Elena squealed in delight. "I knew they wouldn't disown you, you are their only child after all. So where is this mystery school? Somewhere far away I hope." I pictured Elena's indigo eyes sparkling with hope, all the while glancing around anxiously as she twisted the phone cord around her bony finger, waiting for my answer and letting her dishwater blond bangs tumble neatly into her eyes.

I glanced down at the pamphlet that came with the long application. "Volterra," I answered, sounding the most excited I had ever been in my entire life.

She giggled lightly. "That's a coincidence, that's the city where I'm going to school."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you were studying at a veterinarian school in France."

"Remember in the sun flower field by your house? When I made you a promise to stick by your side through anything? Well college doesn't change that, and I never back out of a promise," She said and I could hear the warm, delighted smirk in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. "What makes you think I even want you to come along?"

"Ha ha. Yeah right. You live without _me_? That would be like asking a fish to live on land."

I chuckled lightly. "Yeah I guess you're right. I put every ounce of blame that I am emotionally capable of on you. You are the reason I don't have any other friends. You monopolize my time."

"Oh, but you still love me," Elena sighed dreamily.

I snorted. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

For the next two weeks Elena and I would switch going to each other's houses for long periods of time as we filled out our applications together, giving each other suggestions to make us sound like we belonged to the schools for which we were applying. We laughed as we wrote our cheesy and sappy essays, and cried when we had crumble them up and throw them away and start again.

That summer while most girls went off to the beach or started a new summer romance, we waited by our mailboxes everyday for that fateful letter that would decide our futures. By the time July rolled around, the mailman, pitying us for standing so long in the heat would bring us gifts of chocolates and whispers of 'good luck' or 'hope that letter comes soon'. August rolled through Tuscany bringing with it an extreme heat wave, hot enough to cook flesh off of bone, but our determination never receded as we stood by our metal mailboxes, sweating through our shirts. I wiped impatiently at my forehead as sticky sweat dripped down into my eyes, causing them to water and burn. I scowled at my forehead, mentally daring the sweat that resided there to do that again.

The day I my letter finally arrived, the mailman strolled up to me at an agonizing pace with a huge grin plastered on his face. He grinned from ear to ear as he handed me the mail and patted me proudly on the back. As he walked away, I began to sift through the letters eyes darting to and fro, reading and hoping. Finally, my jade eyes landed on what I was searching for. I pushed my long, dark brown, locks from my sweaty forehead as my heart pounded deep within my chest, threatening to explode with anticipation. With shaking hands I tore open the envelope open in one swift movement to reveal the letter. I scanned the words and sentences with anxious eyes. A small smile appeared on my lips as I ran into the house waving my letter about as if I just won the lottery.

"MOM, DAD!" I shouted into the seemingly empty house.

My father rushed down the stairs looking worried, and my mother appeared from the kitchen an apron tied securely around her waist and a wooden spoon in one hand.

"What? What is it? Is there something wrong?" My father asked feverishly as his brown orbs contemplated my appearance, making sure I wasn't hurt.

I glanced at him, confused. "What? No, nothing's wrong, but my letter came today."

My mother clapped her hands together and rushed to my side. "Well? What's it say darling?"

I chuckled, no longer able to hold back my enthusiasm. "I GOT IN!"

My mother screamed in delight and threw her arms around my neck as my father leaped over the last couple of stairs and picked my mother and I up into a bone crushing hug and whispered into my ear, "That's my girl."

I smiled up at them, finally content in my father's and mother's embrace, knowing that they would support any future decision I would make.

Elena called later that night, after my family finished eating a superb celebratory supper of acceptance. Her voice sounded strained and on edge.

"OHMEEGOSH!! I got my letter, Gianna. I got accepted!" Elena screamed into the phone. I held the receiver a foot away from my head, rubbing my ears with my free hand.

"Wow, congratulations," I sighed, looking out the window at the setting sun.

"Oh no. What's wrong? What happened?" Elena croaked, her voice cracking and her enthusiasm disappeared instantaneously.

"Nothing, but PACK YOUR BAGS BECAUSE I GOT ACCEPTED!" I screamed back at her, smiling the broadest smile ever as I thought my face might explode.

We squealed at each other, lost in our own world of complete and utter happiness for one another.

Fall arrived surprisingly fast, the emerald leaves of the trees had long since changed into a multitude of burgundies, gingers, and gold, dwindling to the ground like rain.

The second most anticipated day of my life finally arrived. It was the day I would be moving to Volterra with Elena. We already had an apartment waiting for us that my parents bought as a good luck present. My parents woke me up, their movements blurred slightly, muttering to me that I was going to miss my bus. My tired, heavy eyes tried following them as they bounced around my room, but after many futile attempts, I gave up and groaned, placing my pillow over my head.

"Mom, Dad…I'll get up. Just leave, please. You're making me dizzy," I complained into the down feathers.

"Stop being over dramatic and get out of bed," my father said as he ripped my blinds open, letting the sun illuminate the dark room.

"Besides, your breakfast is getting cold," My mother added before tossing my blankets off of my body. She smacked my feet twice and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her with a click.

I sighed and couldn't help but be internally thankful I didn't sleep in the nude. I also congratulated myself again because I had left my packing up to Elena and she insisted on packing months in advance, leaving me with little stress. Plus she promised to pick only my most "adorable" outfits in my wardrobe. Her words not mine.

I dragged my body out of bed and across the hall to shower. I cranked the water to a lukewarm setting and jumped in, letting the beating of the water relax my overly tense muscles. I scrubbed my body with my lilac soap and washed my hair with my Dove shampoo. I switched the water off and reached for my towel. After drying off, I changed into a pair of jeans and a comfortable white polo. I quickly assessed myself in the mirror before mounting the stairs to go to the kitchen. As I stepped across the threshold into the kitchen I was hit with the pleasant aroma of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. I breathed in, letting the scent wash over me and my stomach growled viciously in response. Elena, her parents, and my parents were huddled around our table, all laughing and eating. I caught Elena's eye and cocked an eyebrow at her as I grabbed a plate full of pancakes and bacon. I sat down next to my mother and began to shovel the food in, only releasing now how hungry I actually was.

"Wow," Elena said, looking at me in shock. "At college you can impress people by the size of your mouth. I hear that's an excellent ice breaker."

"Obviously it is, but nothing will be as good as your jokes," I replied sarcastically, stuffing my mouth with even more food.

"Oh really, is that necessary? You're going to make me throw up, and for once it won't be because of your face," Elena retorted, looking at me with scrutiny.

I smirked evilly and opened my mouth wide to show her my half chewed food.

"Oh that's disgusting!" Elena said, crinkling her nose in disgust.

I swallowed the large lumpy substance. "I'm sorry? What's disgusting? My food or your inability to say something intelligent and original?"

My father chocked on his orange juice as my mother rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. "Girls, please try to act your age."

"I will if she does," I remarked, sniggering into my next bite.

After breakfast the atmosphere in the house changed dramatically like a sudden storm. What was once happy and welcoming was now gloomy and foreboding. Elena and I led our families to wait in the green front lawn for the charter bus that would take us to Volterra. I glanced down at my watch as the bus rumbled out of the distance and parked across the street, waiting patiently. I picked up my bags and turned towards my parents. Both of them sported tear stained cheeks and large, red, puffy eyes. I smiled encouragingly in their direction as I gave them both a hug and a chaste peck on the cheek. I rounded on Elena who linked arms with me and set out at a trot towards the bus with our shoulders squared.

"You ready?" I asked her, watching her from the corner of my eye.

She smiled and slowly nodded her head. "Always."

In reality my story _did_ have a bad beginning, but it started when I least expected it to; it started during the beginning of a new stage of my life. It started when I took my first steps into the city of Volterra.

**A/N:** Make sure to review please.


	3. Chapter 2: This is Nice, Isn't it?

**A/N:** -lesigh- No reviews last chapter, but I did have a lot of hits. _A LOT._ Oh well...maybe this time right? **RIGHT?!** I am on the brink of madness, so please, please, PLEASE remember to review. And now I like to thank my awesome beta, **TeamEdwardCullen8208!**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything that belongs to Stephenie Meyer, including Gianna. But unfortunately for the Beautiful Stranger and Elena they do belong to me.

**Chapter 2: "This is Nice, Isn't it?"**

* * *

The bus ride to Volterra was anything but exciting, and it did nothing to offset the sudden feeling of depression that washed over me since I left the tight embrace of my loving parents. I couldn't help but wonder if I had made the right decision to leave everything I had ever known for something different, something truly new to me. I had never lived outside the four walls of my house; it had been my home and my everything. I finally understood why so many people choose to fear the realm of the unknown. To truly leave everything familiar is like throwing yourself off of a cliff, not knowing if there is water to break your fall or someone is there to catch you below; a leap of faith.

I looked out the bus window and stared grimly at my sullen reflection. My few worry lines creased as I thought about the near hysteric state I had left my mother in. I winced when my mother's last facial expression I had seen danced in front of my retinas. My mother looked lost, defeated somehow. On the other hand, my father seemed to be taking my departure surprisingly well, almost as if he was pushing me out the door and glad to get rid of me. The conversation I had shared with my parents before the bus rolled away played in my mind as if on repeat.

* * *

_My mom stood beside me, arms linked lovingly with my father. Her normally happy, sparkling face was rearranged into a mask of worry as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair around her freshly manicured finger. Her eyes were welling up with unshed tears as she turned toward me for one last goodbye. She hung her head, letting her hair fall in her face as she wrung her hands together nervously. Seeing her obviously upset, I rushed over and brushed the hair out of her face, tucking it neatly behind her ears._

"_Mom, there's no need to worry. I'll be back for Thanksgiving. That's only a couple of months," I said, trying in vain to comfort her, taking her hands in mine as my eyes searched for hers._

_A tear slipped out of the pit of her eye, dripping off of her chin and landing on her sky blue blouse. "I know honey, but I just can't shake this awful feeling that I have in my gut."_

"_What feeling, mom?" I asked, genuinely curious as to what was making her so flustered._

_She looked up and locked her sorrow filled gaze with mine. "Like I'm never going to see you again."_

"_Now mom, that's just silly." I smiled sadly at my mother, biting my lower lip as I placed my palm on her tearstained face. "Mom, I'll be back. I promise. Just make me a promise that you'll take good care of dad. You know how he gets."_

_She laughed halfheartedly as she wiped at another wave of tears that coursed down her face. "Yeah, I will. Don't forget to call or write." Her voice cracked with emotion. "Oh honey, I'll miss you. I'll miss you so much."I pulled her into a warm embrace, placing my chin on her shoulder._

"_I know mom, I'll miss you too, but this isn't goodbye forever, just for a few months.""I know. I guess I'm just being a stereotypical mother who is reluctantly witnessing her only child grow up and move away." The bus honked its horn, signaling its imminent departure._

"_Have fun and take care of Elena and yourself!" My mother added with one last wet, chaste kiss to my cheek._

_I flashed a smile. "Of course."_

"_Be careful pumpkin. Call if you need anything. And also, don't forget to call if you don't need anything," My father joked, pulling me into a one arm hug and placed a tender kiss on the top of my head._

_The bus honked again. I gave one last loving bear hug to both of my parents and started backing towards the bus, still facing them._

"_You don't have to worry. I'll call when we get there." I said as I turned around and streaked towards the slightly moving bus._

_I bounded up the bus stairs and turned around for one last wave. My father waved back with enthusiasm, but my mother just lifted her hand and placed her head on my father's shoulder._

* * *

A sudden swerve of the bus brought me out of my thoughts as I was thrown carelessly into the plastic armrest of my seat. Elena was snoring lightly as her body collided solidly with mine, not even causing her to stir from the deep sleep that she was enjoying. Oh, if only I could be so lucky.

I hissed in pain and pushed Elena roughly back into her seat, making sure she didn't hit her head in the process. Rubbing my injured elbow, I stood up, glancing around for the cause of the almost accident. I scoffed when I saw a couple of black and white masses in the middle of the dirt road.

_And that's why I hate cows_, I thought to myself as I plopped back down in my navy blue, cushioned seat. I checked on Elena, making sure she was still asleep and not unconscious from the rough pounding she unknowingly endured.

I poked her in her side with a little more force than strictly necessary, and she swatted at my hand.

"Don't poke me," Elena mumbled without opening her eyes.

I smiled slightly. "I'll poke you if I want to."

"If you enjoy the use of both hands, you won't."

I stifled a giggle with my palm and leaned my forehead lightly on the window, watching as my breath steamed up the already semi-fogged glass. I quickly drew a small heart in the fog before it vanished and leaned against the window again, trying to find a comfortable position. I observed the familiar rolling hills fly by at unnatural speeds, swaying with the moving bus as we traveled deeper into the Italian countryside. My eyes twitched towards the sky and I noticed a dark, ominous throng of clouds spreading out on the horizon, threatening a storm. The dark collection of thick clouds threw an eerie shadow over the bus as I banged my head lightly on the window glass.

I normally became excited when a thunderstorm shook the countryside, but today I loathed the very idea of rain. My mood was bad enough as it was; I missed my parents and felt bad for leaving them, I was bored out of mind, and my best friend's snoring was starting to irritate me. A crackling of thunder and the sudden sound of quiet pit-pattering broke my thoughts. I groaned inwardly and watched with disdain as the offensive rain pellets streaked by on the windows, leaving wet tails behind.

I crinkled my nose in disgust as if the water droplets were splatters of poison. This was just what I needed to make myself feel better, clouds and dampness.

Perfect. Thank you, God.

I sighed heavily and reached for my bag that had to be stored under the seat in front of me. I chuckled at the absurdity of this particular rule the bus driver had explained over the P.A. to the passengers. What was my bag going to do? Jump up and hit someone in the face, apparently. Stupid bag.

I unzipped the main compartment and took out my sketching pad and pencil as another flash of lightening and clash of thunder rang out overhead, making many passengers jump a few feet in the air. In my periphery I saw Elena jolt awake and gaze around confused. Her eyes locked on my form.

"It's raining?" Elena asked sleepily, adjusting her cramped body in her narrow seat as she rubbed the crust from her eyes.

"No, it's most definitely sunny out. Oh and that thunder you heard was just a bird passing by," I replied sarcastically as I tapped my sketching pencil lightly on the paper in my lap.

"What's your problem?"

"Just in a bad mood," I admitted, looking away.

Elena punched me lightly in the arm. "Well don't take it out on me. Besides, I just woke up. How would I know if it was raining or not?"

I snorted. "The dark sky and thunder would have been a good clue. Plus it's normally a tad bit brighter at three in the afternoon."

Elena punched me again, this time harder.

I turned towards her, eyes narrowing. She cocked her eyebrow at me as if to say "Come on, bring it."

With a swipe of my hand, I waved off her violent expression, signaling for her to go back to sleep. Elena grumbled and muttered under her breath as she fluffed her pillow. I studied her as she plopped her head down still grumbling, never closing her eyes and keeping them glued to my face. I flushed and turned to face forward, suddenly stopping and doing quite an obvious double take.

That's when I saw him.

I shook my head, trying to clear the sudden dizziness that started to fog my mind. I smiled slightly as I opened my sketch book to draw the man that was sitting across the aisle. He had propped himself up against the window, sprawling his legs across the vacant seat next to him, his arms dangling freely, swinging to and fro with the bumps and dips that the bus felt as it trudged along the winding country roads. I felt a pang of jealously when I eyed his comfortable position. I gently moved my sketching pencil across the paper and as I sketched him, he stayed perfectly still, like a living statue. It felt as if he knew I was drawing him and he didn't want to ruin my picture. His eyes were shut and white ear buds had been placed delicately in his ears, blocking out any unwelcome noise.

Even in his sleeping state, I could tell he was beautiful. The dark violet bruises under his eyes contrasted well with his pale, porcelain like skin and reminded me of a person suffering from a case of insomnia. His jaw and cheek bones were angular and defined perfectly, as if they had been chiseled from marble by God himself. His messy, dark brown, curly hair hung loosely around his face, framing it to perfection. I couldn't bring myself to take my eyes off of him as I continued to sketch him, fearing that he might disappear if I looked away for even a few seconds or held my eyes closed for a bit longer than a standard blink.

Quickly looking down, I checked my progress on my sketch. I scrunched my face in disgust when I noticed a smudge of graphite on his drawn nose; the perfect insult to his angel face. I immediately attacked the repulsive mark, making the offensive smear disappear. Once satisfied that it was forever gone, I repositioned myself and glanced back to the man's sleeping form. I gasped in surprise when two blood red eyes met my own.

My heartbeat quickened to a dangerous pace and my heart threatened to implode in my chest as I realized the beautiful man was staring directly at me. Not staring past me out the window, but actually _at_ me. I immediately began to feel self conscious and I silently wondered when the last time I plucked my eyebrows had been. I felt a blush creep onto my face as his menacing eyes raked over my body, making me quiver involuntarily. He cocked his head to the side as he opened his mouth just enough for me to see him slide his tongue over his sparkling, white teeth. I gaped at him, my jaw slack.

A sudden movement from the seat next to mine caught me by surprise, and I jumped in fright.

"Hello? Gianna, are you alright?" asked Elena, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Elena. I wiped my forehead, clearing the sheen sweat that had developed there.

Cursing myself, I unwillingly tore my eyes away from the Beautiful Stranger and looked at Elena. She was gazing at me with a worried expression.

"Gianna, are you alright?" She repeated, holding the back of her hand to my face, checking my temperature. No doubt was I little over heated, if not feverish.

I cleared my throat and let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding in. "Yeah, I'm fine," I managed to croak out.

"Are you sure? You look as if you're about to throw up or pass out,"

Elena said, still sounding worried.

"Elena, I promise I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle or whatever that saying is."

"Alright. If you're sure, I'm going back to sleep. And if you do feel the need to vomit, make sure it's not on me. These are my best shoes," She announced, smiling at me as she finally closed her eyes again.

I felt myself roll my eyes skyward as she settled herself for the millionth time. I locked my gaze back down on my sketch pad, intentionally avoiding eye contact with the Beautiful Stranger. My heart stopped as I scanned the sketch and became reacquainted with the stranger's absolute exquisiteness. After building up the courage, I chanced a peek at the seats across from where I sat.

There, in the navy blue suede seats, sat nothing but air. I glanced around, confused, trying not to be overly conspicuous as I looked for the man that once occupied the two seats. My mind started running away with all kinds of ridiculous thoughts. Did the Beautiful Stranger go to the restroom? Or was he just tired of me staring at him? Did this gorgeous creature, one that seemed too perfect to be real, even exist? Did my unfair, delusional mind make him up out of desperation and boredom? But then how did I get this magnificent sketch? It's not as if I could create a beauty such as this. My mind was not that gifted.

Looking longingly at my notebook one last time, I closed it with a heavy sigh and placed in gingerly back into my bag. I wrestled it back under the seat in front of me, making sure it was secure so it would not be thumping anyone in the face. Sighing again, I leaned back into my chair and unwillingly closed my eyes. I still wondered where the angelic man could have gone, or if he even existed. I cursed myself mentally. Why did I care where he went? Why did I care that I could have been the cause of his unexplained and unseen departure? I concentrated, searching my mind, seeking a truthful answer to these questions. Maybe I did care…because I knew deep down offending such a stunning creature would no doubt send me to Hell.

I shook these absurd thoughts my mind, refusing to let them plague my conscience. Instead, I listened intently to the soothing rain drops batter the windows, letting the sound relax my tense muscles.

"Hello Gianna," a velvet smooth voice whispered into my ear. A male voice.

I gasped loudly and threw myself forward, hitting the navy blue suede in front of me. I squatted in the small space at the end of my chair, not daring myself to look behind me.

A deep, silky, inviting chuckle pulled my unwilling eyes around to the space behind my previously occupied chair. Standing there with his arms crossed and draped across the top of my vacant seat was the Beautiful Stranger in all of his glory. I furrowed my brow, completely confused. How the hell did he get back there?

"Jumpy little thing, aren't you. It's not as if I can blame you. Humans are naturally afraid of me and my kind. It's a part of your instincts, you see," He purred, cocking his head to the side.

I cleared my throat, trying to find my voice. He chuckled again.

"It's also a fact that humans tend to get a little disorientated in the presence of my kind. I can see that you are no exception," He smiled, flashing his brilliant white teeth as his ruby irises scanned my face.

"H-how…how do know my name?" I managed to choke out and mentally kicked myself. Why did I have to have courage now?

The strange man continued to smile at me as he pointed to his temple and lightly tapped his finger there. "I know a lot about you, Gianna."

"How? I don't know you. We are strangers to one another."

"Some things are better left unknown."

"Who are you, exactly?" I asked curtly.

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," He chuckled a laugh that made me feel uneasy, like he wasn't joking. "And I don't want to do that yet." He added as a light afterthought.

_YET?! What does that mean…yet?_ I thought to myself as I felt myself giving him an apprehensive look.

"Why did you call me a human?" I questioned, rising into a standing position. I glimpsed towards Elena's seat, hoping she was awake, as I was looking for help. I was disappointed and startled to find that she wasn't there. I looked around again and found that the entire bus had been emptied, and we had come to a standstill. My eyes flickered back to the perfect man's face. He was staring at me, his eyes practically dripping with amusement.

"Is that not what you are, a human?" I took the question to be rhetorical and stayed silent as he continued, "But you are a very observant human, a trait which could cause a lot of unnecessary trouble for a girl like yourself. You're different, I can see it."I gasped as he maneuvered his body with unnatural speed and grace into the aisle. "But you're still one of them. Oh, this will anger the others so, but don't worry. As long as you attempt to remain oblivious, you'll be fine. Or at least I hope so," He raised an eyebrow. He seemed to be talking more to himself than to me.

I huffed at his words and was suddenly infuriated by them. "What do you mean I'm different than a normal human?' I am just as human as everybody else that walks on this planet."

The cryptic man smirked to himself as if he was enjoying an inside joke."You're different because you are unafraid. You're different because you do not feel threatened in any way by my presence. You, unlike any other human, are genuinely curious about me. It makes you special indeed."

"I still fail to see how this makes me 'special'," I said, running a shaking hand through my hair.

The flawless man's face went blank, void of all emotion. "Believe me, you do not want to see why this makes you so special." He took another step forward as his eyes lowered to my neck.

My breath caught in my chest at his movement. "What do you want from me?"

He smiled again, making my heart dance. "I want you to wake up."

The bus started shaking violently as I swallowed the large lump that had formed in my throat. I pressed my back against the window as I held the back of the seat, steadying my body against the shuddering bus and trying to put as much space in between me and the man. The man smiled wickedly and took two large strides towards me until his body was mere inches from mine. A glacial breeze seemed to be flowing off of his skin and clothing, a wind that chilled me to the bone. His burgundy orbs studied my expression as his sweet breath blew into my face, making me even dizzier.

"You want me to what?" I asked confused by his earlier answer as I fought the smoldering affect his eyes were having on my brain.

He raised a hand, allowing a finger to trace the skin from the corner of my eye to the middle of my throat. I swallowed again, looking straight into his eyes.

"I want you to wake up," He repeated as his head dipped down to the contours of my neck.

I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a bloodcurdling scream as the violent tremors continued to wrack through my body.

"GIANNA! GIANNA!" Elena screamed from somewhere beside me as she shook me violently, her voice laced with concern. I jolted awake and threw myself into a standing position, hands flying to my neck as protection. My breathing was ragged and my chest heaved as I struggled to breathe. I glanced around wildly, looking for the crazy, stunning man. When I couldn't find him, I let out a relieved sigh. My mind worked to fit the pieces together. It had all been just a dream, a bizarre dream. I felt my heart deflate as I came to the realization that I had dreamt up the beautiful, terrifying man. He didn't really exist.

I coughed and patted my chest with one hand. "What…what happened?"

"I don't know, one minute you were sleeping just fine, the next you were screaming your head off. Everyone started staring, so I woke you up. You must have been having one hell of a nightmare," Elena said, placing a hand on my quivering arm.

I gazed around again and blushed scarlet. Most of the occupants of the bus were looking my way, talking to their loved ones and friends in hushed whispers, some were even standing to get a better view. I sat down immediately and pushed my head against the seat cushion, closing my eyes.

"Are we almost there?" I asked Elena, rubbing my temples with my index fingers.

She responded without a moment's hesitation. "Yeah, just a few more minutes. You can see the city from here, actually." I cracked my eyes open in time to see her point out the window.

Atop one of the country hills sat a looming city, casting an elongated shadow over the valley. The ancient walls and towers held a welcoming touch as I gazed at them. I smiled slightly, happy that I would be getting off this bus soon. All I had to do now was wait a few more minutes.

"So," Elena said abruptly, "What were you dreaming about?"

I shook my head. "I don't know exactly, but I do remember a strange, beautiful, and terrifying man with red eyes."

"Did he hurt you?" Elena asked as she scratched at her leg.

"No. I wasn't even truly afraid of him…I just…I don't know," I admitted, feeling awkward about this whole situation.

"If you weren't afraid of him, then why did you wake up screaming?" Elena asked, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear.

I leaned with the bus as it turned right and started ascending a long hill. "I don't really know why. In the dream I knew I should have felt scared, but for some reason I didn't. I think maybe I screamed because he was about to bite my neck."

Elena covered her laughter with a quick coughing fit. I narrowed my eyes at her and she held up her hands in defeat.

"What? You can't blame me for laughing. An attractive man about to nibble on your neck doesn't sound frightening, just sounds like a good time to me," Elena said, waggling her eyebrows, abruptly lightening the tension that clung to the air.

"Ha, ha. You are quite the comedian Miss Elena," I snorted, rolling my eyes dramatically.

We laughed together until we had cramps in our sides and tears streaming down our faces. The PA interrupted our jokes and we reluctantly settled down, wiping the last of the tears from our faces.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have finally arrived at Volterra." A round of applause and cheering sounded throughout the tight cabin of the bus. "We are not allowed to drive into the city today, so we will be parking in the visitor's lot to unload the luggage and then you can be on your way. We hope you have had a good experience on MacAfee Bus Line and invite you to join us again."

"Finally. We. Are. Here," Elena squealed as the bus came to a halt in the middle of the crowded parking lot. Tourists were flocking towards the main gates; all with gleeful smiles on their faces.

"Yes we are," I breathed, pulling myself out of my seat and grabbing my evil, face slapping bag at the same time.

Elena skipped in front of me as we walked down the aisle. Elena never ceased to amaze me with the amount of energy she held in her body. She jumped the last two steps and hit the pavement with a dull thud. I descended the stairs gracefully and placed my feet on the ground, taking a deep breath. I turned to Elena, who stood waiting patiently for me. We linked arms and merrily walked to the side of the bus to find our luggage, chatting about the weather.

After digging through the piles of baggage, we found our suitcases and started to haul them to the grand entrance of Volterra.

"So this is nice, isn't it?" Elena said, stepping into the long line to get into the city. "Here we are, off by ourselves in an unknown city, adults finally. This is going to be so much fun."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, fun."

We wheeled our bags to the security check point where we had to have them searched. We waited patiently as the officers checked our passports and information with critical eyes.

I smiled pleasantly at one officer, who acknowledged me before whispering to his fellow officer that stood next to him. An officer approached me from the side."Here is your passport, and good luck in school," He said professionally as he looked behind me. "Next please."

I grabbed the handle on my suitcase and ambled forward, tripping over my feet. Elena sat on the ground, waiting and watching for me. She waved once she saw me, beckoning me to her.

"Can you believe this place? It's beautiful," She gushed as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards what I could only assume was the direction of our apartment.

* * *

**A/N:** DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW PLEASE.


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